Blurb:
A casual wish by a frustratingly horny wife results in a most unexpected bit of magic…
Susanna walks into her Kitchen to see two copies of her husband of eight years, William. When they both seduce her, she’s helpless to resist. Who would want to? When another copy walks in and makes love to her, and another, she ceases to ask why, only, how much can she take?
Seven copies, one original, and all of them want to push her to the very brink. Can she handle them all? Sinful satisfaction is the best anniversary present, and eight is Susanna’s lucky number.
Excerpt:
She climbed out of the tub and the rush of air over her skin was lovely and cooling making her tingle with need. She grit her teeth, determined to ignore it. Maybe a dull technical journal?
After a towel dry with the super plush terrycloth she indulged in, her hair was efficiently wrapped up in a towel. Then she donned the terribly ugly but comfy maroon silk robe that her mother had gotten her for Christmas last year. Why her mother got her freckled, red-haired daughter things in such colors, Susanna never understood. Still, it was short enough that Will liked to admire her legs and the August heat was such that she would really rather have worn nothing at all. One of the benefits of taking a searing hot bath in August, was that it fooled her body into thinking that the air was cool, at least for a little while. Then she’d simply retreat into the air conditioning of the bedroom and curl up with a book or a technical manual and try not to stare beseechingly at Will to come and fuck her some more.
She sighed softly and opened the door, determined to find out the source of all the commotion outside.
The hot, humid air of the bathroom gave way to the hot, stuffy air of the hallway. It wasn’t supposed to get this hot in San Francisco! It was supposed to be foggy and overcast and sweater weather in the middle of “summer”. It was not supposed to be hot enough to fry an egg on the sidewalk. She cursed the weather gods and the condo complex’s rules that only allowed them to put an air conditioner in the bedroom. She would have followed Will into the bedroom and tried not to think about jumping his bones, but he must be in the kitchen judging from all the noise. Given how much he hated the heat, that seemed very unusual.
Sure enough, Will was right there, in the kitchen, in the midst of cooking one of his incredibly intricate meals. Practically naked—except for his apron. And, Will was right there, in the kitchen, standing at the sink and scrubbing away at a mountain of pans. Again, almost bare, except for an apron and apparently boxer-briefs that cupped his great ass with TLC.
Soapy water dripped onto the kitchen floor from the overloaded sink and the scent of sautéed garlic wafted up into the air as she stared at the men in her kitchen. Two men. Both completely familiar. Her husband and what appeared to be his twin. Unless Will and his family had been hiding something from her for years.
“I’m dreaming. I fell asleep in the tub and I’m about to drown any second.”
Will…Wills…oh hell, both of them looked up at her with a smile. One said, “Hi, sweetheart!”
And the other, “Are you parboiled enough yet?”
Susanna was pretty sure that if she had been the fainting type, she would have collapsed. As it was she pulled out a chair from the kitchen table and slumped into it, not noticing that her robe gaped open invitingly.
She swallowed and decided to act nonchalant. “Hi…honey. What are you doing out here? I thought you were going to work in the bedroom?”
Chef Will waggled his eyebrows at her as he expertly flipped a pan of mushrooms that were searing to a golden brown. “I know you like my work in the bedroom, but I thought I’d cook you up a nice dinner. I know you hate to cook on a weekday.”
“But it’s Saturday…”
Her words seemed to slide right off of him and he went right back to stirring his pans. Dishwasher Will turned and grinned, “And I wanted to get the dishes done. You know I hate to leave the kitchen a mess if I’m going on a journey.”
She could practically hear the rim shot for the punch line coming, and set him up for the follow-through, though she was almost dreading to hear the conclusion of this setup, “And where are you going then? Crazy?”
"Oh sweetheart, I’m heading down a long, dark, warm tunnel to heaven, and I plan on taking you along for the ride…”
She blushed hotly, “Oh, that was bad. Really bad.”
“I think in the realm of pickup lines, I would be court jester.” He turned back to the dishes, his gorgeous ass barely covered by a pair of black briefs.
“I’ve always preferred the jester to the king. He can make you laugh and has time to give a girl a really good time. Much less stress.”
“See, I knew there was a reason I adored you.” He winked at her and got back to scrubbing a pot that Chef Will must have just finished with. They were a perfect team, sliding past each other in the tiny kitchen with synchronicity to be envied, but they never seemed to acknowledge each other’s existence. Her brain was simultaneously thinking a thousand things, “What the hell is going on?” or some version thereof took up most of that thousand, but somewhere in there was, “Damn, my husband has a nice ass,” “Wonder what he’s cooking for dinner, it smells good,” and quite prominently, “Two! The things I could do with two of him!”
BUY LINK: http://www.jasminejade.com/p-9413-magic-eights.aspx
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This post first appeared on The Rantings & Ravings Of Jeanne St. James, please read the originial post: here
